


Behind every great man

by orphan_account



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Comeplay, Food Sex, M/M, Rimming, Wet & Messy, unsafe sexual practices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:07:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin stretches Arthur with peanut butter and fucks him/stuffs him with banana and then rims/eats him out. And then he fucks him too.</p>
<p>See notes for detailed warnings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind every great man

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains unsafe sexual practices (eating something that has been inside someone elses rectum). Please don't read if this offends you.

Arthur has a hungry hole. Whenever Merlin looks at it, spreading Arthur's cheeks apart, he feels this overwhelming need to stuff it with something, anything. Arthur makes sure it happens often. He'll pull his trousers down - Arthur finds underwear hopelessly pedestrian - present his bum, and demand what's rightfully his.

Sometimes Merlin wakes up to Arthur lying on all fours on the bed, waiting for Merlin to wake up. He's probably been up for hours - eaten his breakfast, maybe gone for a run, taken a shower, then undressed and gone back to bed. Because some mornings, he just needs a good stuffing in order to function properly in the demanding world of big business.

Quite often, he lies down on all four as soon as he gets home from work, holds himself open and snarls, "Get on with it," and Merlin has to abandon the dinner preparations, throw his apron off, and get to work. Arthur doesn't like to be kept waiting. Merlin always carries lube and toys in his pockets; being the perfect house-husband is hard work, it's not just shopping and making sure Arthur comes home to a nice dinner every day and keeping up with the social calendar.

Today is different. It's barely past two, long before Arthur usually shows up. Merlin is enjoying a sandwich when Arthur storms in, looking grumpy and desperate. He grunts something which is more likely to be "Take care of it," than "Honey, I'm home," before he toes off his shoes and peels off his trousers and socks and leans over the kitchen counter, displaying bare arse cheeks which are pale and luminous like the twin moons of some distant planet. Arthur's backside demands purple prose. It's that luscious.

Merlin reluctantly puts his sandwich - organic unsweetened peanut butter and banana - down, and walks over to Arthur.

"Hey," he says, gently massaging Arthur's buttocks (they're like silky, smooth canteloupes, so fucking perfect). "What's the matter, sweetcheeks?"

Arthur sighs, a sad panda sort of noise, as he pushes his twin globes further into Merlin's hands.

"Bad day?"

Arthur hums, then wriggles a little, probably trying to get Merlin's fingers inside.

"D'you need Merlin to make things better?"

Arthur moans.

"How do you want it? Gentle prostate massage and handjob?"

Arthur huffs.

"Kissing Arthur's bum better?"

Another indignant sound.

Merlin thinks. "OK, OK. Do you want it dirty?"

This time Arthur moans lustily, trembles in anticipation. Merlin laughs, pats Arthur's lovely buns as he considers what to use. Treacle? Chocolate ganache, left over from yesterday? Ice cream? But in the end he goes for something simple. He gets the peanut butter, still standing on the table, and for good measure, he gets a banana, too.

"I was eating a peanut and banana sandwich when you interrupted me. I might have to make myself another one."

Arthur gasps, turns his head to smile hungrily at Merlin.

"It'll get a bit dirty, so we need to take your shirt off, love."

Arthur obliges, scrambling up to practically tear off his shirt, then laying down over the counter again. His back is beautiful; muscled and strong.

Merlin scoops up a large dollop of smooth peanut butter, more than half of the contents of the jar, and spreads it in Arthur's cleft.

"I'm going to open you like this," he says, licking and putting away the spoon and replacing it with his fingers. "Is that what you want?"

Arthur's eyes gleam as he turns round again. "Yes," he says, and his voice is hoarse, like he's being fucked already.

So Merlin goes to work, rubbing the peanut butter around Arthur's beautiful, pink pucker. The peanut butter is thick, and although it gets greasier as it warms on Arthur's skin, it's not as smooth as the lube they tend to go for. But Arthur is well trained, naturally loose and flexible, and soon enough, Merlin can get two fingers inside, and Arthur's backside is already a mess. Arthur's eyes have closed by then, but his mouth is open. Merlin wishes he could fill it with his cock.

Arthur's arse gets filthy with the peanut butter, but he smells like something edible. He smells delicious. He's on his toes now, pushing back against Merlin's hand, so eager to be filled. Merlin pushes a third finger finger inside, bringing more of the half-melted peanut butter with him. It's all over Arthur's crack now, but a surprising amount of it is inside. When Merlin moves his fingers, it's all goey and melty inside, like Arthur's round backside is a huge, filled bonbon.

Merlin's mouth waters at the thought, and he reaches for the banana, waving it in front of Arthur's face.

"This, too?"

Arthur nods feverishly. He wants it so badly, always a pervert for having his pink hole crammed full.

The banana is overripe, soft and a little squishy. It's no good for fucking Arthur, not really. But it's perfect for making a mess, for turning Arthur's arse into something deliciously filthy and edible.

"Hold yourself open for me," Merlin instructs, and Arthur does, reaching back to hook his fingers inside his hole. The muscles of his back look wonderful like that, but it can't be very comfortable. It doesn't matter, it's not for long.

Merlin peels the banana, then pushes it against Arthur's opened pucker. A little enters, but a lot of it ends up a mush outside. Merlin has to scoop it in, tease it inside. Arthur is moaning, trembling from the difficult position he's in.

"Just a bit more," Merlin says, and wipes the last of the mess from Arthur's crack and his fingers, and forces it inside. There's enough inside that a little leaks out as Merlin pushes inside.

"I'm going to fuck you now," Merlin adds, knowing what Arthur needs.

Arthur lets go of his hole with a sigh, presses his hands flat on the counter, instead. "Don't hold back," he says. "You know I can take it."

So Merlin opens his trousers and goes to town.

It's weird, almost repellent, to get inside Arthur when he's full, when it's all a mess inside him, fatty from the peanut butter and slimy-slick from the banana. But it gets good, better than good, when Merlin starts thrusting, and Arthur's hole makes deliciously filthy sounds, and the goo of ripe banana and peanut butter leak out alongside Merlin's cock.

It's wonderfully perverse, this evidence of how well-matched they are. There can't be many people that enjoy things like this, but both of them do, and Merlin is so grateful. He could never share his life with someone who isn't Arthur, someone who isn't strong and brave and beautiful and also an arrogant, pompous bastard who likes to get his big, bountiful arse ravished in the filthiest, most creative of ways on a regular basis.

Merlin comes on an instroke, slamming his cock balls deep, making the well-churned mess inside Arthur squirt out. He adds to the gloop with his own come, pumps a few times, even though he's over-sensitive now, to make sure it blends.

When he pulls out, he's filthy. His shirt and his trousers are ruined, and now he'll have more laundry to do, but it doesn't matter.

Arthur is everything that matters.

Merlin sinks to his knees to admire his work.

"Push for me, sweetheart," Merlin says, tickling Arthur's now swollen pucker with a loving finger. Arthur does, and Merlin relishes how Arthur's pink flesh swells, opens like a ripened bud, and lets out the mess that Merlin has so carefully stuffed inside him. It dribbles out over Arthur's taint, a slimy slop that now includes Merlin's come.

When Arthur relaxes, his hole sinks back. He's not giving it all up at once, the greedy pig.

"Are you going to make me beg for it?" Merlin asks. He teases a finger through the mess, then brings it to his mouth. It's warm from Arthur's body, a perfectly wonderful mixture of bitter, sweet and salty. "Mm," Merlin says. "Tastes so good, Arthur. I love eating from your hole, love it. Give me more."

He leans in, licks at the mess, eats it slowly from Arthur's skin. And Arthur gives him more, pushes it out, slowly. Merlin can feel Arthur's sphincter working against his tongue. It's perfect, and by the time they're finished, Merlin is almost hard again. Arthur comes against the counter as he pushes the last of the contents of his tortured hole onto Merlin's waiting tongue. Merlin feels him tremble.

They end up sitting on the floor, both of them, tired and happy. Arthur's frown is gone, replaced by a relaxed smile.

Merlin wipes his mouth. Not that it matters much. They're both going to need a shower.

"Why are you home so early?" he asks, when he's capable of thought and speech again.

Arthur ruffles his hair. "I thought I'd come home early to help you. We're having people over for drinks, or have you forgotten?"

"Was that today?" Merlin says, unable to resist.

Arthur looks as if he might sulk, and Merlin laughs. "Of course I remember, silly! The canapées are ready, our clothes are laid out upstairs, and the garden looks its very best. Now we just need to clean the kitchen and ourselves up."

When the guests arrive, Arthur looks immaculate; all signs of stress and worry gone. He's gorgeous, and when he pulls Merlin into his arms, kissing him in front of their delighted guests, Merlin feels drunk, although he's hardly had the time to finish a single drink.

Behind every great man, there stands a woman, or in this case a man. Merlin is happy to be that man for Arthur.


End file.
